Awe Of Power

Story Info
She was young and held him on a pedestal.
13.7k words
3.91
77.7k
9
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I'm not too sure when it all began, this thing with me and people who have power. Or at least those that I perceive have power. It's not like I'm a little "groupie" or anything, but somehow I seem to hold them in such esteem that it's a little beyond reason.

Maybe it's because I was such a late baby. I have three sisters and the next youngest is seven years older than me. Even though I was pampered a bit, they were always telling me, "Be sure and do exactly what Mom and Dad tell you and it will keep you out of trouble." I assumed later that the three of them stayed in hot water with our folks and they were just trying to give me some good advice.

Bottom line was that I never dared go against anything they said, even through high school. They were more like gods to me than parents. And that's why I wasn't exactly the most popular girl in school. I was neither promiscuous nor adventurous and I'm sure that was taken by others to be dull.

And it certainly didn't stop with my parents. Teachers, policemen, my principals, whoever. One day I was just singing to myself while I was helping out with a church project. One of the elders happened to walk by and said, "You really sing well, Shelly. You ought to be in the choir." To most this would be just a friendly encouraging comment. To me it was a directive and the next Sunday there I was, up front and singing away in the group.

I guess I should tell you who I am. My name is Shelly; I'm twenty-seven years old and married to my first love, Don. For all practical purposes, I have worked at one place all my life. I started out as a clerk at a pretty good size industrial plant here in southern Oklahoma and now I am in purchasing.

If I had to describe myself in one word it would be...curves. Not fat, because I'm five six and weigh a hundred and thirty. It's just that all my features are round. There isn't an angular part of my body. My hips are nice but come off my waist in a nice little round fashion.

My breasts are too large for my liking and are like half a grapefruit. Not pears like the lucky girls, but nice half spheres. Of course Don likes them and prefers that I wear miniscule bras a size too small, pushing them up and over the top like they are trying to escape. I don't think I own one bra that my nipples aren't trying to peek over the top.

My butt cheeks are two perfect round balls. Don says I'm "an ass man's dream." My face is really nice but a little too round with a nose that fits perfectly in with the rest of it. I keep my blonde hair in a shaggy cut to cover some of it but it's still...round.

I never was good at sports so I never had a chance to get that chiseled look the other girls had and I so wanted. And I was way too much a prude to be popular enough to be elected cheerleader, so that left me in the band.

But there was hope. When I was a sophomore I realized I might be able to make my mark as a majorette. I practiced and practiced on my tryout routine. As always, the judges were three band directors from neighboring schools, all men. When I performed my routine for my band director two weeks prior to the competition he gave me some polite applause and then some advice.

"Shelly, you've got your timing and steps down and I like your music. What you need is to vastly improve your body language. Remember who you will be performing for, both in these tryouts and again if you are selected."

I was smart enough not to let his comments go any further than the two of us and I practiced my routine in private. I had never questioned him before and I wasn't then. I knew what he was saying. I needed to get sexy with my dance.

So I did. When the day came and the three of them watched my routine, which was always in private, I was thrusting my hips and boobs at them like a corner prostitute. It must have worked. One of them called me back later for a second performance to break a "tie" (in which he was the only one presentto watch me) and I was selected to strut my stuff the next three years at every football game and pep rally.

Later, I wondered just exactly who it was I was suppose to be entertaining out there, prancing my body around in that skimpy outfit. Some of the stuff we did was lascivious at the very least. And now days the outfits those girls wear are no more than a thong in the back!

But, all was not lost for me. It was during one of those games that Don really noticed me. He was one of those boys with which smaller school sports programs survive. He was good at all sports but great at none. That meant he was a starter at all of them but had no chance of going to college with any.

Along with Don came a massive and significant change in my life. After I graduated from high school, my mother had a subtle conversation with me. Basically what she said was that I was no longer a child and had to make choices on my own. In effect, I quit getting directives or suggestions from them of any sort.

This may seem small but to me it was like a huge opening to rush through. I knew that I was at the point of using or losing. That is, using my body or losing my man. Don was really starting to balk at our limited sexual experiences and I didn't particularly object to going further, either. It had just been that thing with my parents. With help from my older sister who then lived in Oklahoma City, I saw a doctor and got birth control pills. It still took two months before I took the plunge.

Don had played with me before but we had definite rules that we bent but didn't break. That meant that he had his hands on me every chance we got and we spent a lot of time with my nipples in his mouth. And I'm not telling you I didn't respond to his touches because I most certainly did! I can't recall the times I went home soaking wet and let my fingers do the cleanup.

As for him, I could bring him off with my hand in the blink of an eye and did so on almost every date. Later he jokingly accused me of literally having him in the palm of my hand but I knew he loved it when it happened. He still does!

When I got myself on pills I began to think about how to bring it all about. I knew that for all practical purposes I was getting ready to give away my wedding night rituals. Not that anybody waited any more, anyway. But for some reason it still seemed important to me.

I finally decided it was to be on his birthday. Of course, he was totally unaware that anything was in the works and was getting more and more edgy on a monthly basis. It was hard for me to keep it secret and several times I almost abandoned my plans, especially when we were in his uncle's old unused house and actually on a real bed.

His uncle was gone a lot and Don had secretly made a key when he was doing some errands for him. It had become a hideaway for us, especially since it was out on a small road and we could hide his car behind the house. There was something about being on a bed instead of in a car. It felt so right, so grownup. And it made me hot as a firecracker.

I didn't leave anything to chance for the evening. Although I was wearing just an old pair of jeans and a tank top, I was also carrying a zipped up bag. When Don asked what was in it I was coy.

"You birthday present." That's all he got from me.

Like any other teenagers, though, we lost no time getting through the evening rituals of dinner with his folks and a small birthday gathering. He made a beeline for his uncle's house as soon as we could shed them all.

When I walked into the bedroom and took the bag with me he protested.

"Hey, where's my present." I really knew he was complaining about not being able to get to my boobs.

"It's coming." I still wasn't giving him anything, but I was already starting to shake.

I had bought a real simple and very inexpensive little negligee, pure white and totally transparent. I still had it in mind that this was, for all practical purposes, going to be my wedding night.

When I put it on I looked at myself in the mirror for at least the tenth time since I had bought it. Nothing had changed but my confidence. What if he didn't like it? What if he didn't like me!!

I had brought along a nice but thin bed cover, too. I wanted to make sure there were no tell-tell signs for his uncle to see.

Gingerly, carefully, I opened the door and walked out.

Don's mouth fell open and the silence was dreadful!

Finally, he tried to speak. It didn't work well for him. He was almost stuttering.

"O-o-o-o-h-h-h, m-y-y-y-y, G-o-o-d-d-d," he whispered.

I just turned and walked back into the bedroom. He approached me very slowly, almost if he were stalking me. Maybe he thought it wasn't for real.

He lifted my top off slowly, snaking his hands down the sides of my body, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmured against my throat.

He lifted the cloth up to the bottom of my breasts and kissed them tenderly. I sighed heavily when he ran his tongue on the underside of the soft, sensitive skin as he lifted my top further up. He lifted it up and off, tossing it to the floor then lowered me down to the cover and kissed me, pressing his bare chest against mine. The warm flesh-on-flesh contact was incredible and gave me chills all over.

Don ran his hands over my breasts and stroked my nipples. His lips made their way from my mouth all the way to the open space in the center of my chest, his tongue passing over to my right nipple, circling it delicately. I whimpered as he put his entire mouth over it, sucking. As I began writhing beneath him, he stopped and switched to the other side. I threw my arms around his neck and held him close to me.

His hands gently cupped my breasts, his left hand fondling my nipple. As my hardened tip slipped from his mouth he kissed my abdomen and then my navel. His tongue played with my soft flesh, exciting me further as I squirmed with pleasure. He licked the area above the elastic of my panties and I gasped.

"Are you sure?" He was giving me an out.

I only nodded. Words seemed out of place at the time.

He placed his fingers in the top of my panties and gently peeled it from my body, discarding it on the floor. His hands ran up and down my body as his breathing became labored.

"You're so silky," he remarked.

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"No! No, Lord, no," he said. "It's perfect, like the rest of you." He placed a kiss just above my exposed mound, sending jolts of electricity through my body then separated my legs and began kissing my inner thighs. I watched him intently, my breathing ragged. He ran a finger along my slit, looking up at me as I stared into his eyes. I became wetter by the minute, waiting for him to finally touch it.

I felt his fingers creep up and begin to explore me. He gently slipped one finger in me without a word. All I could do was grunt and thrust my pelvis toward him. He thrust in and out of me rapidly, drawing cries of pleasure from me. He stopped momentarily to my dismay. Suddenly, I felt fuller and he quickened the pace. He had pushed another finger into me. I breathed rapidly, entwining my fingers in his hair.

"Oh, Don. Oh, Don," was all I could get out.

"I just want to make you feel good," he replied, nuzzling against my neck. I stroked his face softly and said nothing. What was I suppose to say at a time like this?

I guess he suddenly realized he was fully clothed. He stood up and slowly removed everything.

As he peeled his boxers off, his cock sprang out in front of him. It seemed much longer and thicker than I had even remembered. I breathed in deeply as I reached out to touch him. I cradled his rock solid manhood in my hands, stroking it lovingly. Then I don't know what came over me. And I know he was caught by surprise.

I leaned forward and sunk my entire mouth over the top of him. I tried to fit as much as I could into my mouth, but I could only go about half of the way down. With him deep in my mouth, I began caressing his cock with my tongue. His pre-cum that had gathered on the tip was thin and sort of salty but it was almost a treat to have tasted it.

"Shelly," he gasped, "Oh, God, it feels so good." I quickened my pace as he wrapped his fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp as my mouth bobbed up and down on his cock. My tongue worked hard within the confines of my lips, flicking over the head of his penis and swirling around his hard shaft.

"Shelly," he warned, "I'm gonna cum." As soon as he said that I released him. I could see that holding it back looked like it was going to kill him. When I took his hands in mine, I saw his cock twitch.

I had teased him for such a long time I wasn't going to do it any longer.

"I want you to have me," I told him in earnest. "I just want you."

I lay back all the way, spreading my legs. He positioned himself between them and took my face in his hands. As he leaned in to kiss me I wrapped my arms around him. He slowly inched his way into me, stretching me fiercely as he did.

I whimpered against his mouth. I felt him trembling against me, trying hard to retain control of himself. Once he had gotten completely into me he broke the kiss and looked down into my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I shifted slightly beneath him, letting myself adjust to his tremendous girth. As I lay there, the feeling of being stretched diminished and was replaced by a wonderful feeling of fullness. I suddenly wanted more. I couldn't get enough.

"Take me," I commanded, pulling him slowly down into a kiss. A smile spread across his face as he began moving his hips. In and out, very slowly at first, my juices coating us both. He ground his pelvis into me with each inward thrust, pushing against my clit.

I moaned quietly as he pushed into me. His trembling became more noticeable and it didn't take any more for me to figure out this would be quick. I decided to just let him go.

"Harder," I groaned. "Faster." He needed no more encouragement than that. Each drive became more powerful than the last, pushing deeper into me with more rapidity. My moans became louder and quicker as his strokes became poundings.

I felt him began tensing up.

"Shelly, I'm cumming. Oh, god, I'm cumming!"

With one final hard shove into me, he came, shooting deep within me. The grinding on my clit almost sent me over the edge, but not quite. Slowly he collapsed atop my body, both of us sweaty, chests heaving. The sweat glistened on his tan skin and his muscles looked taut.

His eyes focused sweetly on mine as he swept a stray hair from my eyes. He was beautiful in every way and I knew that he would be the man I would always love.

That was the first of many, many nights we had together before we were married. I'll never forget the moment, the tenderness, him bringing me to the brink of orgasm. Unfortunately, the latter became too much a common occurrence.

Even though our sex was really great, he seemed to always come before I had a chance to reach mine. I think maybe when I escalated to such a level that I was ready to release it excited him too much and he exploded. Not that it wasn't fabulous because it really was. I just wanted to climb that final step with him.

It wasn't something I wanted to discuss with him. I certainly didn't want him to feel inadequate or think for even a second that I wasn't thrilled with our experiences. I just wanted to come with him. Luckily, as it seems always the case, the problem resolved itself without any intervention.

Ever since that first night when we went all the way we had started to experiment a little. I was still shocked that I had taken him in my mouth that first night. Little by little, he became a little more aggressive with his touches, both with his fingers and his mouth.

I particularly responded to the touch of his mouth on me. It was heaven on earth. The problem was that when my body started to respond to it, he invariably moved on to enter me before I could come.

One night as we kissed, his hand wandered down between my legs. Parting my intimate area with his middle finger only, he slipped it between those lips and found my clit. I was so wet with arousal and after we kissed more deeply he pulled away from my mouth and slid down my body, kissing and nibbling as he went along.

As he lapped at my pussy with his tongue over and over, I could feel my clit become engorged. I knew what that meant, having been there many times before when I was alone and rubbing it myself.

I moaned slowly and softly and he seemed to double his efforts, sucking my clit in and out of his mouth. He curled a finger inside me and, most likely by accident, hit directly on my spongy g-spot. It firmed under his touch and my clit began to throb.

I don't know what came over me, but all at once I decided I wasn't going to let it pass by me this time.

"D-o-n-n-n-n-n, please don't stop," I moaned. He sucked harder, speeding up and alternately hitting me with his tongue. "There."

"There!"

"Right there!!"

"Suck it, suck it, suck it hard!!"

I couldn't believe it was me giving such explicit directions, taking over the situation and begging for completion. But it was and within a few agonizing minutes I got my reward.

Challenged, he wanted me to climax and worked his mouth and finger in cadence. Sucking and stroking me, I began to rock my hips in the same rhythm. Suddenly my torso froze and I stiffened. My thighs quivered and my orgasm covered me like a blanket.

"Oh my God, my God, OH GOD!" I kept repeating over and over. He pulled back and caressed my pussy gently with the palm of his hand as I rode the waves of my orgasm and he watched my experience in ecstasy.

Then he went back down and began to dart his tongue all over, teasing, never lingering, just a little tap and retreat of the tongue. My heart was racing and I bucked my hips wildly into his face. He responded with a long continuous lick the entire length of me. Again and again, he dragged his tongue over my entire intimate area.

I was crazy with lust. He quickened the pace and began to alternately lick and then suck and every nerve ending came alive. Sometimes he'd slow down, other times he'd lick, suck and blow frantically. My pussy was at the mercy of his mouth and I was enjoying being on the receiving end like I never had before.

"Ohhhhhhhhh Don... Don."

"O-o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-h, o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h, o-o-o-o-h-h-h," was about how I started when I knew I was past the point of going back.

Then, in the next few seconds as I thrashed about under his mouth, I found out something about myself that has never changed and Don certainly isn't going to let me forget.

Some women are "criers" when they come, others may moan, still others become so physically animated that the man can hardly stay with them as they move about so much.

Not me. I'm a talker.

I start saying things and I can't quit. I beg, give explicit instructions, everything. And I'm afraid that all morality leaves me and my language gets extremely course.

That particular night Don recalls me saying, "There, there, right there. Suck it, suck it, suck my pussy. Make me come."

It has become an unintended and embarrassing part of our sex. I know that at times part of my blurting is,"Fuck me, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!!"

And other times, "Harder, harder, right there, harder. All of it!! All of it!! I want your cock!!"

At times I must go overboard and don't even remember. At times I have even begged him to "put it in my ass!" Or so he says. I will never allow him to do it but it isn't because I haven't asked for it during the throes of orgasms.

In short, our sex turned from great to unbelievable, especially once Don got a taste of bringing me off. He always does it in a hurry and the thrill is fast and furious. No matter how great it has been or will be, though, I'll never forget that first time he did it nor will I ever have another magical night like that one. It gave a whole new level of meaning to the expression, "All it needs is a woman's touch."